Wartime Letters
by Eldhoron
Summary: A short one-shot of wartime musings written from Elrond's perspective during Dagor Dagorlad. Slightly AU. Written for Elrond Tuesday on the Three Readers Forum


**I have no idea where this came from… In this fic Elrond is already betrothed to Celebrían. Italics indicate words in the letter. Please leave me a comment or review. :)**

Lord Elrond sat on the edge of his cot. Outside, an eerie silence had washed over the land that had been his home for weeks. It was in these times that Elrond felt most anxious. The knowledge that, at any moment, a crashing thunder could break through the quiet and throw his world into chaos plagued the ellon.

The fighting on the plains was taking a respite for the time being. He wondered how long it would last because he knew it never lasted long. The enemy had been losing ground for some time, but a nagging feeling that this winning streak wouldn't continue for much longer followed Elrond.

Desperate to distance himself from the agony of waiting on the precipice, he bit his lip and rose making his way to the small desk at the back of his private tent. The wooden chair creaked as Elrond settled his weight into it. A matchstick snapped to life lighting the space with a dull orange hue. Elrond sat for a long minute unsure now what he had really meant to do. Alone in a dimly lit tent on an ashen battlefield, the dark-haired ellon just sat. Thoughts leapt to and fro within his mind. Trying to focus himself, he listened to the quiet all around him.

After a moment of calming himself, he finally felt ready for a distraction lest the anxiety of war fell upon him once again. The ellon pulled out both a sheet of parchment and a quill. The blank face of the paper stared blatantly up at him but the ellon's fingers soon began to dance over the parchment. Ink flowed, smoothly crafting an elegant script of letters.

The obvious answer of who he should write to presented itself instantly. That person was his beloved. It was easier than he had thought it would be. He merely let the words come out onto the page. On their own, the verses seemed to appear each making their own little sentences and bringing to life Elrond's personal thoughts. His hands carried him further and further away from the desolate land the ellon sat amidst. They carried him to a far land under starlight.

 _Dear Celebrían,_

 _As I sit and write this to you I imagine your beautiful face framed in gorgeous golden locks, my love. You know you are always on my mind. I think about you all the time, remembering your smile. I can't tell you how much I miss your smile and hearing the sound of your sweet laughter. It is so quiet here…_

While his thoughts naturally drifted to his beloved the sound of scribbling filled the room. His other half was such an imperative part of his being that now, here fighting for her and all other freedom-loving peoples, Elrond felt an undeniable emptiness within himself. It was a void that no one else could fill. He let sculpted fingers paint that consideration onto the page.

 _I wish you were here. I know I have told you this many times before in previous letters, but I need you._

He halted his writing as his mind leapt to an entirely different subject. This was not the type of thinking that would get him anywhere. With a short intake of breath, he nearly pulled the quill from the face of the page in admonishment. The temptation of leaving the letter unfinished like he had done so many times before either intentionally or not was suddenly overwhelming. Elrond closed his eyes, now wondering whether or not he should indulge himself. A low rumble sounded in the background of his auditory senses. He should be outside doing something more productive or important not dreaming on paper…

Elrond wrestled with the arguing points for a long moment. The feeling passed and the elf continued writing. This time his hands played to a different note of the song. He missed his home. He missed the place that he had built up. He missed Imladris.

The letters once again reappeared. Elrond scribbled those words down. There was something about writing them that made the feelings so much more real.

 _I miss waking up to the sound of your voice, love. I miss hearing the sound of the birds chirping in the trees at dawn. I miss the sound of the cooks preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Here, the air is dead. It is only filled with screams and rumbling powers._

He felt bad for writing the next words but they came out on their own accord. An account of the cries he had heard screamed out during men and ellyn's dying breaths haunted the parchment. They spilled out onto the page like a wounded man's blood.

Another sensory image came to the forefront of his recollections. It surprised him after his previous dark thoughts. When he inscribed his wish the elven lord could not help but feel an innocent child-like foolishness.

 _I want to smell grass in the evening. Everything is ashen and smells of smoke and blood. But I want to smell grass again. I want to go outside and smell the newly-watered lawn. I can't wait till I get to smell grass again. What I wouldn't give for a whiff now, love._

What he wouldn't give… Elrond let that memory run through his mind. Now, everything threatened him with the taunt of never being able to have those little pleasures again. This darkness threatened to swallow all in its path and if they… He didn't help stop them… Elrond distracted himself from that line of thinking. That would most certainly keep him from doing his duty. He halted his fingers. There was nothing else to say…

Yearning, to draw out at least a closing sentence, Elrond wracked his brain for words. It felt nearly impossible. Nothing was presenting itself. The elf lord's silver eyes scanned the page. He did not read the text over again. It would help nothing. Instead he watched the script flow across the half-filled page. The pen strokes always reminded him of the sea, a heavy tide that washed over everything. They could mimic the crashing waves on a sandy, white beachhead or even the chaotic tide of soldiers on a battlefield. The latter idea was more easily seen right now then the former... Each bead of water rushing with all abandon towards the shore only to be stopped in a heartbeat and be washed over by another then another... It was a hopeless picture that was daily beginning to look like the end for him as well. A closing sentence came to him…

 _Sometimes I wish I wasn't a leader in this army, love. Sometimes I wish I could fight and die without the world on my shoulders. I wish that I could lose hope like everyone else and despair. But I can't can I? Even if I don't believe it, I have to hope for you and everyone else… I promise I won't stop, love. I promise for you and everyone else._

The closing was acceptable. He couldn't help but think it was too sentimental… This whole letter was too sentimental. He wanted to close it all up and write an uplifting letter for once but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. His heart told him there was some hope in this fight somewhere but Elrond couldn't find it. He had always been told that the heart was deceitful above all things… so if his heart told him that than what was the truth?

The thoughts continued to play chase in the elf lord's mind. Elrond let them if only to tire them out so he could focus later. He would need to be able to focus later…

A young soldier stepped into the Lord Elrond's personal tent. The space was sparse and clean. Filled with little light, the area looked as though it were under a perpetually overcast sky. The young officer's war weary green eyes scanned for the occupant and found the dark silhouette at the back of the room. The hunched figure sat with his back towards the entrance where the guard now stood. A wreath of golden candle light framed the dark Noldo and shimmering flecks of fire seemed to radiate off the ellon's armour as he sat.

The warrior cleared his throat to announce his entrance. Not wishing to disturb the lord but bound by errand and duty, the soldier waited patiently for Lord Elrond to respond.

Elrond was cast from his reverie by the low noise that came from his tent's entrance. He half turned to face the newcomer, a young auburn-haired warrior. "Yes?"

"The High King summons your presence, my lord," the soft-spoken soldier stated.

"I will be there, thank you."

The ellon tilted his head in a curt nod then left the tent, leaving Elrond to collect himself. The lord stood from his chair and carefully placed the parchment into a drawer filled with myriad other unsent letters. Taking a deep breath, he began his way to Gil-Galad. He still had work to do.


End file.
